The Forgotten
by Varthlokkur
Summary: Percy Jackson and his fellow Camp Half-Blood demigods fought off Kronos's invasion of Manhattan. But most demigods do not attend Camp Half-Blood and are unclaimed. When Typhon and Kronos's army came, we were not idle.
1. Chapter 1

**The Forgotten**

**Prologue**

**Disclaimer: Blah blah yeah I don't own Percy Jackson, yada yada long list of legal stuff.........  
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History is never complete. There is always a missing piece, a forgotten person, a lost battle.

History is always changing as new pieces are discovered, a new person discovered, a new battle found.

Perseus Jackson and the demigods from Camp Half-Blood held back the Titan Army at Manhattan, eternally glorifying them, setting them down on the pages of History,

forever.

But I am not here to tell you their story, for everyone knows their story. No, I am here to tell you the story of my comrades, my friends.

History omitted us during the Battle of Manhattan.

While Perseus was fighting Kronos, we were tracking, stalling, and fighting Typhon, the deadliest monster in existence, so powerful that the gods could only imprison

it, never truly destroy. So deadly that it in it's pilgrimage to Manhattan, it unknowingly caused the death of hundred thousands and destroyed the homes of millions.

We cutoff reinforcements from the Titan army to arrive at Manhattan after the gods subdued Typhon.

My comrades took a stand against Kronos's forces, and practically ignored in the aftermath. But we few who fought and survived know the sacrifices and hardships we

faced.

I am Zeke Michael Ranger and I will remind History of our deeds.


	2. Chapter 2

**The Forgotten**

**Chapter One: Backstory**

**Disclaimer: You should've read at least 9000 of these by now, you know how it goes.**

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When I was a child, my mother worked long and hard at various jobs, she had never told me what and never stuck to the same job for more than a few months, to

support the two of us. All I knew of my father was that he was a man of great power who left us. We lived in a small apartment complex in Ritzville, Washington. One

day, when I was only seven years old, my mother never came to pick me up from school. I remember sitting in the principal's office for four hours while cops tried to

locate her. They never found her, like she simply disappeared into thin air. I was orphaned in a sense. The Department of Public Welfare came and took me away to

the orphanage, where I was frightened and lonely.

After that strange things started to happen. The orphanage itself wasn't bad, nor were the people running it, contrary to popular belief. However, I began seeing

things only four other orphans could. I was instantly granted access to their cliché. Matt Taney was the oldest, at ten. He had green eyes and truly blond hair. Next

was Marcus and Holly Fremont, twins at the age of eight with both blue eyes and dark brown hair. The fourth member was Sally Emboden, who also had blonde hair

but gray eyes. I was the youngest member, with pitch-black hair and black eyes. We ran around together in a gang, socializing with but not befriending the other

orphans.

It was at this point when strange things started to happen to ME. One day us five were playing in the orphanage playground at night when no other people were

around. I had an interest in constellations and was watching the sky when a giant eagle dropped what looked like a pen from a great height. My natural curiousness

as a child took me to the pen, and I kept it with me, not knowing it was special.

I remember how I discovered the magical properties of that pen. It was at school when I tried to unsuccessfully read something from the board the teacher told us to

copy down. I lost my pencil in the lunch rush and had no other writing utensil, so I had took out the pen. When I clicked it, a six foot bronze spear appeared in my

hand, skewering the desk. I dropped it in shock and the kids around my started screaming "Zeke has a gun!" which utterly confused me. I remember saying "It's not a

gun, it's a spear-pen." While the teacher sent me to the principal's office for possessing a firearm. I was expelled from that elementary school, and that was the end of

my school education.

A few days later at the orphanage, I found the pen in my pocket again.

Then crazy things started happening. Us five started seeing monsters around the orphanage. It was generally at the point we became paranoid and distrusting while

becoming independent.

Oh I remember that day quite clearly, the 9th of April in 2001, the day that changed all our lives:

"Matt! Marcus! Holly! Sally! There's a huge pig sleeping outside! Come see!" I yelled, pointing to it. My shouting attracted other people but how blind they were. One

even commented, "That's not a pig, that's a truck dummy!"

"It is so a pig, your just blind because you have no eyes and you can't see." I replied hotly. The five of us though indeed did see a giant pig sleeping in the parking lot.

"Wow cool!"

"Ewwww it's so big and fat and gross and fat and big and smelly and yucky!"

"It's so lazy! Look at it sleep!"

"Hey I betcha I can climb atop it." I boasted.

"Nuh-uh. I betcha you can't! You'll just fall right off." Marcus challenged.

"You're on! But if I can you have to give me all your pixie sticks." I stuck out my tongue at Marc.

"And if you don't you have to give me all your potato chips!" He grinned back at me. He loved pixie sticks while I loved potato chips and we were betting all the time.

"I don't think that's a good idea Zeke." Matt said softly. "It could be dangerous, and what if it wakes up?"

"See Zeke? Even Matt knows your going to lose the bet!" Marc taunted me.

"Oh yeah? Well come on! I'll prove you wrong!" I rushed outside, despite Matt's warnings. Soon they followed too, Matt sighing a bit. When I reached the pig, I nearly

gagged from the smell.

"Ughh it smells!" I complained as I held my nose with one hand and tried to climb aboard. As I reflect, I'm still surprised my kicking and hair pulling did not wake up the

pig. When I finally reached the top of the giant pig, I beamed proudly at Matt, Marc, Holly, and Sally.

"Ha ha! Now you have to give me ALL your pixie sticks." I taunted.

"Awww man." Marcus groaned. Suddenly the pig seemed to reanimate and woke up with a

"SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEET."

I was scared beyond my wits and the pig rose up on it's legs.

"Hurry Zeke! Jump off before it runs!" Matt yelled as Holly and Sally covered their mouths and started shrieking.

"Yeah jump off! It might roll in the mud and you'll get all muddy!" Marcus joined in to the chorus.

Of course, my brain was working too properly so when I jumped off the pig, I landed in the middle of the empty street.

"SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEET!"

The giant pig stared directly at me and started charging me, it's tusks thrusting through the air. I stared in horror as it came closer and closer. I remember screaming

VERY loudly and then being hit by a body, which sent me sprawling. A bloody shape flew through the air and I blinked as blood spattered on my face. The screaming

around me seemed to increase and the whole neighborhood seemed to come to start to come to life. The pig sped away as the first ambulances started heading

towards us. I looked at the body dumbly and it took my ten minutes to realize it was Matt.

"Matt Taney died at 7:21PM at the East Adams Ritzville Hospital after being hit by a large truck going at high speeds." That was what the official reports said. Marc,

Holly, Sally, and I were questioned about the event although the police didn't quite seem to believe me about the giant rampaging pig part. At the orphanage, they

turned Matt into a object lesson for the kids, "Don't play in the street."

Matt's death hit us hard, not the least me, whom he had saved. I keep thinking back then that if I hadn't pointed out the pig or woken it up, then Matt would've been

saved.

It was then when all four of us ran away from the orphanage, from one uncomprehending and cruel world to face another colder and crueler world together.


	3. Chapter 3

**The Forgotten**

**Chapter Two: The Shades and The Hurricanes**

**Disclaimer: I'm not doing these anymore…**

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We didn't ditch dramatically, all four of us just didn't go to school the next day. No one really noticed, thinking it was we trying to cope with Matt's death. The truth

was, coping was hard but not impossible. We walked until we tired, and then until we were exhausted. We were truly living on the streets then, begging and stealing

to get by. By this method, the four of us had enough money to take an Amtrak to Chicago, the famed city. Boarding the train itself was, well, a problem. We were just a

BIT young to be going on trains by ourselves but Sally had thought up a solution to the problem.

"We can tell them our parents are in Chicago and they sent us money to go there!"

"We look nothing alike though." I pointed out. "The only people who look similar are Marc and Holly, cause they're twins. And it would look like a trick if we all did it."

"We can pretend we don't know each other, except for Marc and Holly. We can be far apart in line."

So yes, that is what we did. And yes, the conductor was stupid enough to buy the story. Or maybe he just didn't care about our age as long as we had a ticket.

Chicago was… new to us. It was also home to enough gangs and violence to suck us four into that raging vortex.

**Five years later…**

The Shades was the gang we ended up in, Marc and Holly were now fifteen, Sally and I were both thirteen, although mainly because my birthday had passed a few

weeks ago on the 24th of March and hers was coming up on the 9th of July. Marc and Holly had worked their way high up in the hierarchy; both of them had rifles,

while I was in the middle, a bodyguard or mugger at times. Sally was a drug runner, you would've never suspected she would or could even scare a small bunny away,

although she can kick the asses of people twice her size and then go out for ice cream without blinking. None of us did drugs because, well, the ADHD more than made

up for it. Trust me, I tried smoking weed once and my senses just overloaded… Not fun when you're trying to chase a slinky of color while thinking if you hit enough

cars you'll be a professional drummer. Did I mention I threw up once or twice afterwards? Or got hit by a car I thought was a very friendly dog?

Our rival gang was the Hurricanes, if we didn't have a turf battle once a month, we would lose blocks of territory so battle we did.

"Yo Zeke, you got your crowbar?" That was Dan, my cell leader. Each cell leader lead six to eight gang members. It was time again for another turf battle.

"Damn straight, ready to take their turf?"

"You know how it goes."

"The rest of ya ready to get down?" Dan said to the other cell members.

"Just hope like hell I don't get stabbed again."

"Stop bitching, you ran into that knife."

"Least I didn't get knocked out by a tree. Talk about running into things."

"Hey, it was dark and I was concentrating on their guy."

"That sounded kinda… gay."

"Yeah, that did…"

"Alright shut up and listen up. It's about to start in five minutes, you know what to do. We lose again you're all doing a hundred push-ups a day for a month. Again."

Dan warned.

"Awww man, that's bull. My arms still ache like hell."

"That sucks, c'mon give us some slack, we were holding out just fine."

"Yeah those pussies from Larry's cell ran away crying for their mommies."

"Didn't I already tell y'all to shut up? If we lose it's 200 push ups. Now get ready it's starting."

The eerie part about half these turf wars is the silence is only broken by shouts of pain.

No insults were yelled, this was routine.

"Alright Zeke, your throwing the first hit, everyone else, watch Z and get ready to kick ass."

"Yes Major Asshole sir!"

The other guys started snickering at this, but were stopped by a glare from Dan. Major Asshole, or anything with a military rank and "asshole" in it was his nickname.

Oh speaking of which, throwing the first hit is NOT an honor. Everyone basically goes for you, which is as fun as being forced to eat 100 pounds of ice cream in ten

seconds, it's great at first but in half a second it gets really old. And your head hurts too.

"Oh screw you. Just get started."

It was pitch black when we all lined up, shoulder to shoulder, facing the Hurricanes, who were one block away, lined up shoulder to shoulder. I stepped forward,

keeping close to an alleyway where I could jump into after the chaos of the first few minutes. Another guy stepped forward. He was about three inches taller than my

5ft 10 inches.

"Your dead kid." He sneered at me, he hand behind his back.

"Someone's been doing LSD recently?" I countered, my fist tightening on the crowbar, ready to swing it around at an instant. My eyes went to his hidden hand, getting

ready to jump aside at a moment's notice.

"Hah, cocky little bastard."

"I didn't need to know your family history."

"Good one kid. Not good enough to live of course." His hand swung around. My eyes widened, there was a gun, an uzi, in it. I dropped to the ground and leaped into

the alley as it came around and his fingers hit the trigger. Lining up like that meant a gun could cause heavy casualties. Damn.

The noise was deafening, think standing on a boat of fireworks on July 4th. The muzzle flashes showed me his face, smiling with glee. He had messy blond hair.

"ARGGHH!"

"WHAT THE F-"

"SUNUVA BITCH!"

"HE HAS A GUN!"

My gang members, my FRIENDS, fell, some mortally wounded, most having the sense to hit the ground. Blood started pouring into my head. I saw red and only red.

Somehow I could see in the dark, the Hurricane member with a gun the focal point of my vision. I snarled and picked up my crowbar and ran at him.

"Your loud kid." He said, his voice sounding far away, as he pointed the Uzi at me and pulled the trigger. I steeled myself for impact. I had no reservations about dying

as long as I brought him down.

_Click. Click. Click._

"Fuc-" He yelled as I collided into him. I smashed the crowbar into his face in a bloody rage. And again. And again. Suddenly, a foot found it's way into my crotch.

"Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh." I groaned, my hands instantly covering as he kicked he me in the chest and pulled out what looked like a flashlight.

He clicked something and a bronze sword appeared in his hand and he pointed it at me.

"I have a gun here kid. Move and I'll send a bullet through your head."

I think my right one got driven into my lungs… I stood up slowly, breathing hard and fast, and looked at his "gun."

"Freaking retard… That's a sword Sherlock Holmes. What a genius." I muttered so only he could hear.

He looked surprised and then grinned. "So. You're like me huh? Well too bad there can only be one of me!" He lunged with the sword but I sidestepped. My hand

instantly went to my pocket. Was it there? Yes, the pen was there. I pulled it out and clicked it and sent a bronze spearhead towards him.

"I'm different, my spear's longer than your sword." I taunted. "And I have this spear here."

He spun around and the point of his sword knocked the spear out of his way, leaving me open. The sword came back around and sliced a cut diagonally across my

chest.

"ARGGHH. Fucker…" I swore as pain ripped through me. I could hardly see straight or stand upright.

"Aww does the poor baby want his mommy?" He taunted.

I instantly bolted upright. I could suddenly see the world as clearly as if it was noon, though everything was tinged with shades of green. He stumbled backwards,

away from me, in shock. I saw an opportunity and stabbed with my spear. The sword countered and knocked it away and tried to strike, but I jumped back, having an

advantage of range, and executed a counter-riposte, slashing a scar across his face. He growled and charged, sword up high, but I slammed the spear through his

thigh, which sent him sprawling onto the ground howling in pain.

"SHADES!" I roared as I smashed his head with the butt of the spear and then reversed it, slamming the spearhead through his head.

_I had just killed a man in cold-blood._

My gang seemed to be snapping out of a trance and sprang into action, charging the Hurricanes with a battle roar that echoed through the empty streets

of Chicago. I launched the spear at the Hurricanes. It slammed into a person and went through, as in through-his-body-without-doing-any-damage through. I stared.

"The hell?" Then I shrugged and picked up the crowbar I dropped and lead the charge.

The Hurricanes seemed ready to receive us but after we hit their first ranks, angry and howling for blood, they starting running. We did not gloat over our victory while

standing idle, we chased them, and beat up any stragglers we could catch. We chased them until our legs were sore, and we kept going. Anger fueled the whole gang

that night. When we stopped running, we sent many guys to the new territory we had captured while the rest of us called it a night.

Suddenly, my vision failed horribly. Everything went dark. I could not see the green world I previously had, only shapes and figures in the dark. When I reached the

apartment my cell shared, my cell members was already there.

"Hey Zeke. That was impressive how you killed that bastard." Dan said, his voice tinged with fatigue.

"Pretty kickass."

"Did we lose anyone?" I asked, I was starting to feel tired, like I was getting off a caffeine high.

"Yeah, Carlos and Andrew bought it. We cremated all the bodies, couldn't let the cops discover us." Dan replied. I felt slightly guilty, I never really got to know them,

but I try as I might I couldn't give a damn at four in the morning. I collapsed onto my bed and sprang back up with a yelp.

"You okay there?" Dan called from his room; lucky bastard got his own, being the cell leader.

"Yeah… I had a pen in my pocket and it stabbed me when I lay down."

"Alright. Now shut up and sleep."

But I couldn't sleep, as I took the pen out of my pocket, I thought back on everything I did in the past few hours. I killed a person, a real person.

_He must've killed so many more of my gang members with that uzi. He had it coming!_ I thought fiercely. Some reason I didn't feel any better. I closed my eyes and

instantly fell asleep.

I had a disturbing dream. I dreamed that three people, a boy, a girl, and a really big man with jacked muscles, were on a cruise ship. There were tourists in the boat

but monsters were swarming in it. The man looked around nervously, acting like a little kid. When I saw his face, I nearly jumped. He only had one eye.

Then my dream changed, I was in San Francisco. I didn't know how I knew it was San Francisco, never been there, but I just knew it. I was at the base of a large

mountain which was swarming with monsters, mostly the same ones I saw on the boat.

"The time issss getting clossssser. Kronosss will be ready ssssssooon." A…. thing with the upper body of a woman and lower body of two snakes hissed.

Kronos? Who was Kronos? I wanted to know, but the way the snake lady said it put me off, like I didn't want to know PERSONALLY. Then I heard sirens and woke up

with a start.

I still heard sirens.

"Ohhhh damn." I muttered as the whole neighborhood seemed to awaken.


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